The Birth of the Huntress
by rcethan
Summary: Helena Bertinelli is a woman thirsty for vengeance. She runs off to the only place where she can harvest that feeling to its full potential. Gotham City. Set after episode 8 'Vendetta'. I will be updating the story to coincide with the show. So keep checking back for more. This is my first fan fiction ever so...be nice.
1. Prologue

That city wasn't for me. No! Everything was corrupted. Even love had to be corrupted. So I left. I rode. And I rode until there was no turning back. That bastard of a father was behind bars for good. The only good thing that came out of this mess. He wasn't dead. But at least Michael's death had been avenged.

I had to stop at a gas station at some point. It gave me a chance to recollect. And whatever came out of it, wasn't good. I had nowhere to go. I had all that money in the world and nowhere to run to. And even the money wouldn't last long. I wouldn't be surprised if my trust fund had already been frozen leaving me with nothing but a bike and a few bucks in my wallet. But it was all for the better. That money, the Bertinelli empire was one built on drugs, guns and blood. The blood of innocent people. Like Michael's.

I didn't know where to turn. I had no one in this world, not one after his death. There was betrayal everywhere. There was no one for me. No one to understand my pain, my anger, my mind. No one but Tatsu. She had been there at a time when no one else had. She understood family matters gone bad. She knew the pain. So…off to Tatsu. Off to Gotham it was.


	2. Chapter 1 - The Watchtower

The sharp blade that had slaughtered so many was now housed on my neck. An inch of a move and I would be dead meat.

'Is this how you welcome old friends, T.?' I said breathing as little as possible. I valued my life dearly.

The katana was swiftly retrieved and Tatsu gave me a warm embrace.

'Well, you startled me Helena. You should know better than that,' she said in a broken accent.

'That's true. But I wanted to surprise you,' I told her.

'And you did. What brings you here in the humble Gotham City?' she asked bracing her arm with mine and guiding me up the stairs.

'Please T. We both know Gotham is nothing close to humble. Both our cities are like twins. Only twins at the wrong spots,' I grinned, but anger was trembling its way out of my lips.

'Which is why something needs to be done, before it's too late,' she said.

'Isn't it too late already' I commented more than asked.

'Not as long as people like me and The Hood exist. But seriously though. He needs to come up with a better name,' she said.

We had reached the top of the staircase. There was a door in front of us. Tatsu stepped next to a fuse box, opened it settled her thumb on a flat surface and the door swooshed open.

'What do you mean? What is it you do nowadays. I'm surprised you're even alive after leaving FBI? I thought they took betrayal nasty,' I asked. I hadn't seen this woman for years.

'Different philosophies, I guess. And I would like to see them make an attempt at my life,' she smirked.

An office set up with the latest gadgets was revealed as we came up another flight of stairs. A chair was set in the middle of about ten monitors. Each monitor was displaying a different image. Some were showing places in Gotham. Some where logged in to highly classified and, surely, dangerous software. The very middle screen was static, glowing gold with an engraving, the lines of which reached the edge of the monitor and seemed linked with physical cables which were connected with all the other monitors.

'I run the Watchtower!' she told me and behind the screens I noticed the stained glass surface of the watchtower. The watchtower that could be seen from all the city and lit the time to every disoriented civilian.

'So what? You changed from top class spy into a housetaker?' I asked, but I already knew there was more to it than playing house at an old building.

'Come on, Helena. You're smarter than that. The Watchtower is my operation. I look after the city and those who live in it,' she said.

'So you've turned vigilante too? What is this trend lately?' I said.

'I save lives. I clear the city of scum,' she told me and took a seat in front of screens.

'And how do you do that? Please don't tell me with a bow and arrow,' I joked.

'Of course not. Bow and arrow is too distant. Too cowardish. I use my katana. I am known as Katana,' she responded with more seriousness than I intended.

'You with a katana? I'm surprised this city still has any crime whatsoever,' I told her. No one should mess with Tatsu and her katana.

'You'd think. But sometimes they even manage to fly under my radar,' she said.

'Radar? You mean this?' I pointed to the monitors behind her.

'Yes,' she turned around herself on the chair and pressed her fingers on the only keyboard. 'The latest technology of Intelligence, terrorist force, illegal and experimental gadgetry combined in one program. A program designed to guess, trace and track criminal action before it happens. I present to you the Oracle!'


	3. Chapter 2 - RIP Michael

*Flashback*

'What do you feel?' she shouted on top of her lungs.

'Pain. Pain. Pain,' I said impacting my fists on the punch bag with a force that shuttered my physical ability. But I was in so much pain already, I couldn't feel a thing.

'What else?' she shouted.

I didn't pause, but I kept hitting the bag Tatsu was holding so firmly she hadn't moved an inch despite my punches.

'Hate,' I growled.

'Pain, hate. What else, Helena?' she insisted. She was starting to piss me off.

'Lost,' I mumbled.

'Can't hear you,' she shouted.

'Lost. I feel lost,' I surrendered to the emotional turmoil. I flattened my body against the punching bag and felt the sweat decreasing, while the panting inscreased.

Tatsu's face smoothed to compassion and put her head next to mine.

'I know how it feels. Don't give up. You need to find a way to direct that energy somewhere,' she whispered.

'Well, my dad had him killed so will he do?' I said not even realizing how much I meant it, until I saw Tatsu's face grinning.

'It's a start,' she said.

'What did you do? When your brother in law killed your husband?' I asked.

Her face changed. The smoothness disappeared. All I could see now was suppressed anger. I begun to apologize, but she stopped me.

'I tried to save my children. When that failed I just killed that son of a bitch. And then killed some more. Until the FBI hired me as an assasin. And then I killed more people. I became so immune to death it became routine. That's when they promoted me to higher ranks. To save themselves a killer. Frankly, I think they were afraid of me. But here I am. Alive, well, helping you get over Michael's death,' she said. A single tear lit in her left eye, but with the next blink, it vanished. Like it had never existed.

'It's his funeral tomorrow. I don't know if I can do it. With my father there. Paying his respects to the very person he killed,' I said.

'You have to say your final goodbye to Michael. Ignore your father,' she suggested and she was right.

'Well, okay, but I can't promise I won't kill him if I get the chance,' I replied.

'You're not strong enough yet,' Tatsu replied like I had just told her I wanted a puppy as birthday present. Like I hadn't just confessed my desire to kill my father.

'Then make me strong,' I ordered her.


	4. Chapter 3 - Playing Prey

I twirled my finger around the rim of my martini glass, waiting for him to show up. He was late. Maybe he wouldn't show up. But just when I was about to give up and leave this God-forsaken place, he appeared. Looking smart and with a grin on his face. I followed him with my eyes as he flirted his way to the bar. He bumped on to a woman in front of me. She was attractive and was open to the idea of him buying her a drink. No! I couldn't let this happen. I had to get him to buy me a drink, not her. I was trying to think as fast as I could while the barman was responding to his call.

'Oh my God! Is that Bruce Wayne? Without a date?' I sang with as much girliness as I could master.

Surprisingly it worked and the woman in front of me went in search of Wayne, who was probably clubbing somewhere else tonight. Sometimes being a gold-digger could save your life. I made my move.

'You can buy me a drink, cutie,' I continued with girly Helena.

He inspected me thoroughly, decided I was hot enough and shrugged.

'Of course! What would you like?' he asked like a gentleman.

'A martini,' I replied.

'You heard the lady!' he told the barman. The barman nodded and fixing his eyes on me proceeded in making my drink.

'So what's your name, beautiful?' he asked me with a charming bass in his voice.

I giggled. 'Me? Beautiful? You're be such a liar,' I said.

'I'm not lying,' he responded.

'I'm Annabel,' I introduced myself.

'Pleased to meet you Annabel. I am Regan'. He fidgeted for my hand and stuck a kiss on the back of my palm.

The barman slipped the drink between my fingers and I looked at him with curiosity as Regan whispered nonsense in my ear.

I wasn't supposed to notice, but he spiked my drink with a black and green pill like he did with all of them. Despite the lounge music, I heard my drink fizz as it absorbed the pill into its essence. But I had a few tricks up my sleeve. I swapped the spike martini with the one behind me. When he came up he saw me drinking what he thought was a drug induced alcoholic drink.

'Would you like to keep me company tonight?' he asked with a large grin on his face.

'Of course!' I answered and jumped on my feet, faking clumsiness and he caught me, dragging me out.

I kept the pretense of dizziness all the way out of the club. Out there, he put me in his silver Mercedes and drove me to his apartment. Half way through the journey I made him think I'd lost my consciousness. I closed my eyes and intensified my hearing trying to not lose track of our way. I could hear the slashing of the wind as we dashed through it and the roar of a motorcycle. He carried me out and then into his building. When inside his apartment, he threw me on a sofa, took his coat off and rubbed his body against mine.

I cracked my eyes open, my hands grabbing his neck and my knee making impact with his groin. He howled in pain and with surprise drawn on his face he got up and taking my head between his hands made an effort to throw me off the sofa and onto the coffee table. Instead a pulled my leg up straight and kicked his face off, while the other leg retrieved my body from his grip. In the blink of an eye I was up on my feet. He thrusted himself on me and flattened me down on the floor.

Before I could throw him off me again, a pair of red hands seized him from his shoulders and threw him on his back. The pair of the gloved red hands belonged to a man of tall physique, in green leather trousers and a red vinyl jacket, who jumped on top of Regan, grasped his head and twisted it around, leaving behind the echo of the cracking bones.

'No!' I shrieked, got on my feet and kicked the stranger's back. He stumbled, but turned around and I saw the barman from the club. The one who didn't take his eyes off me. The punch intended for his face froze mid-air.

'What the hell are you doing here?' I said in a very childish way.

'Saving your butt, missus,' he replied snarkily.

'My butt didn't need saving, you jerk. I was doing fine on my own,' I told him letting my hand drop to my waist.

'That's not what I saw'.

'I was about to retaliate. Then you come in and look what you've done,' I said.

'Well, I'm sorry, but I thought you were under the influence of Vertigo,' he justified himself with a shrug.

'You know about Vertigo?'

'Of course I do. I've been watching this guy for weeks. Trust me. He's better off dead,' he said.

'Oh really? If you've really been watching him you'd know that he doesn't kill his victims, but trades them. And if you hadn't killed him I would have learnt who he does business with,' I explained.

'No. I didn't know that. Sorry!' he smiled apologetically. He was cute and I was so annoyed at him it made him look hotter.

'Who the hell are you anyway?'

'Dick Grayson. But you can call me Robin,' he told me.


End file.
